


Here Comes the Bride

by electricmisso



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, clearly not effective bc like words too much, everything is here except heterosexuality., i don't know what else will make people click on this, my attempt at a PWP, stockings? ripped panties?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricmisso/pseuds/electricmisso
Summary: Who will help Zelda prepare for the wedding of her nightmares?





	Here Comes the Bride

**Author's Note:**

> okay, i know some of y'all are very stressed about the prospect of a spellwood wedding. but fear not! even when fighting off fuckboys, there are always Madam Spellman opportunities. i kind of threw this together to send everyone some good gay vibes before the premiere. i formed it around [this](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0aa5cfdca6c2955237d31e2adaa58009/tumblr_pp32stN4Ca1wylohe_1280.jpg) promo image, made a bunch of leaps and assumptions along with twitter, and went from there. 
> 
> oh, and unlike my other fics, Zelda knows that Mary is Lilith here. it just makes more sense that way, but regardless names are never going to be easy to follow with this ship.

“Will you at least let me help you with the veil?”

“Hilda, I told you, your fussing isn’t going to make this go any faster.”

“Come on, Zelds, you’re getting married. Sure, I know we all wish it were under better circumstances, but you’re still entitled to enjoy it.”

It was rare that Zelda Spellman didn’t feel entitled to enjoy her long life’s pleasures and fineries. Despite her family’s relatively modest abode, it was her prerogative to infuse glamour and prestige into mundanity; sumptuous nightgowns (occasionally to impress guests, but mostly just herself), smooth strings of pearls, fine polished silver and rich cuts of well-fed meat melting on her tongue. Zelda was studied in the art of sophistication.

One would think that her wedding day, a grand occasion after nearly two centuries of rebuffing “suitable” gentlemen callers, would be cause for grandiose celebrations. But here she was, in the final fitting before she was to be wed to Faustus Blackwood, wearing just a tasteful dress and jacket; black, the color of their tradition, but certainly not the grandeur befitting a high society wedding.

The dress was among the options she kept on hand for more high-falutin funerals held at the mortuary, and to Zelda, that’s what this day might as well have been.

“I’m not entitled to anything outside of eternal suffering.”

“Oh, come come off it. I’ll put up with your melodramatics but none of this self-pity.” Hilda continually tittered around their bedroom, hoping to find an accessory or two that might make her sister seem brighter; Zelda would never be “blushing,” but it would do her some good to seem at least an _awake_ bride. “This is the one day of our lives that I will happily, and of my own free will, let be all about you.” She stopped to take in her sister’s scowling face and body. “Can you at least give us a smile?”

Zelda’s scowl remained unmoved. “I can give you nothing of the sort.” 

Hilda couldn’t contain a full barrel-roll of her eyes; she dealt with the melodramatics of a certain teenager quite frequently, but a wallowing Zelda was another beast entirely. 

“What happened to ‘fulfilling your duty as a woman of Satan?’ Or ‘regaining our status in the coven?’” Hilda was irked, unable to keep up with her sister’s mood swings related to the impending marriage. “I thought you’d talked yourself out of regretting this decision.” A decision Hilda tried to talk her _into_ regretting, but had come to accept as her sister’s prideful obstinance. 

Zelda, meanwhile, didn’t think of it as a “decision” as much as fate unencumbered, a punishment she couldn’t fight off. She had been quietly resigned to it, until this very morning, when she woke up crushed under a landslide of sorrow, grief for the woman she thought herself; a woman who protected her family from people, from terrible men, who sought to bring them harm; a woman who could hold her family together, instead of freezing in place while they fractured, splintering away from her.

But the worst part of all of this, besides lying in bed every night next to a man she loathed, is that Sabrina would never forgive her, for giving her hand to him, or for revealing herself as a coward.

Hilda had already seen too much of her vulnerability for one morning. Hilda couldn’t stand the man either, and she hadn’t even seen the darkest parts of him, or worse, contemplate what eternity with him would feel like. “I’m just thinking too much, about leaving the people I love to be with a person I don’t.”

Hilda could have acknowledged Zelda’s roundabout statement of affection, but chose not to, so as to not send Zelda back into her shell. “I know you don’t love Faustus,” she added instead, “but I thought you at least liked him a bit.”

“Nobody likes Faustus, Hilda.”

“But you... _you know…_ ”

“Contrary to what your novels might tell you, sister, enjoying coitus with someone rarely equates to liking them.” And she did enjoy it, but not as much as she enjoyed her freedom, and the life she’d built with her family.

“So this isn’t what you want. This isn’t either of us want, or your niece and nephew for that matter.” Between the two of them, Hilda was rarely the one to maintain a stiff upper-lip, but she worried that her usual method of heart-on-sleeve might send her sister over the edge. “But the Zelda I know wouldn’t let any doubts keep her from looking her best on a day like this, under the eyes of the entire coven.”

Hilda being here was too much, reminding her of the comfort and family she was leaving, that she’d taken for granted for longer than she’d like to admit.

“I don’t need you to look my best, sister. I’d prefer to do this alone.” She couldn’t look her sister in the eye. “Please leave, and make sure Sabrina looks presentable.”

“All right.” Hilda’s eyes and voice were soft. “But just give a shout if you need me.”

 _I will,_ she thought. _Need you._ “Duly noted,” she said. And Hilda turned to go.

Once the door clicked closed behind her sister, Zelda heard slow, high-heeled clicks emerged from the shadowy corner of her bedroom.

“I, for one, think you look quite delectable.”

Zelda turned with a start, clutching the nonexistent pearls at her chest. “Lilith! How long have you been there?” She was dressed in a tasteful navy frock; understated, and clearly a holdover from Mary Wardwell’s closet. This demon woman, however, had an uncanny ability to make even the most dowdy outfits seem fit for a tart.

“Long enough to know that my suspicions of you having second thoughts were correct.”

Since Lilith had revealed her true nature to the Spellmans, Zelda had become tense and straight-backed in her presence; it was a combination of reverence for such a holy figure, fury at her lies, and terror at the possibilities of her power. And this concoction meant that, not without stubbornness, she would always comply with Lilith’s requests.

“What does it matter to you?”

“Zelda, dear, you’re one of my most devout followers. Your continued well-being is of the utmost importance to me.” She didn’t believe a word, but could never help but let Lilith keep talking, both out of fear and desire.

“I’ll survive,” she responded. “I have no choice but to do so.”

I think you’ll find, my dear, that the path set before you will lead to great prosperity.” She was in front of Zelda now, inching closer. “Once we set my plan in motion, you won’t just be surviving, you’ll be thriving.”

“You have plans? For me?” Zelda knew how to play coy, feign modesty, but with Lilith it was genuine.

“Always,” she said while flashing her devious smile. “My, what a beautiful dress. It’s understated, of course, but the tailoring is divine.” Lilith’s hands ran along Zelda’s waist. “Nothing but the best for the bride of a high priest. Except for the groom of course,” she added with a chuckle, lips moving to Zelda’s neck.

The routine was now familiar. It actually wasn’t dissimilar from that of Faustus, other than the fact that she found Lilith infinitely more attractive than her betrothed. Since making herself known as the Mother of Demons, the most revered female figure of their faith, Lilith had requested frequent contributions of Zelda Spellman’s oral services as an offering of piety, a gift of ecstasy to the earthly form of the Unholy Mother.

But the truth was Zelda didn’t need prodding; she was eager to take a lover that wasn’t Father Blackwood, wash away the foul stench he’d imbued to all sex. Mary Wardwell was a fine specimen to partake with; the touch of divine was a delicious bonus.

“What would your fiance do?” Lilith questioned, lips moving along Zelda’s jaw. “If he knew the things you’re ready to do to me?”

“My fiance is quite the slut himself,” Zelda drolled, “so I don’t particularly care what he thinks.” That made Lilith chuckle again.

The next step in their dance was always the same, and Zelda moved to kneel, but Lilith stopped her.

“Don’t be silly, Zelda. It’s your special day. I came here to serve you.”

Zelda’s mouth hung open in astonishment astonished. “I couldn’t possibly accept such a gesture.”

“You can. And you will.”

“But...but, you’ll ruin my dress.”

“Oh, I’ll be careful with the dress; it’s the underthings I’m planning on ruining.” She sank to her knees while continuing to gaze at Zelda, whose own eyes were blown wide open in shock.

“Those plans I mentioned?” Zelda nodded to signal her memory. “This is how they begin.” She ran her hands up Zelda’s legs, feeling the friction of her stockings as she hitched up the skirt. Those same hands were immediately on Zelda’s black underwear, tearing them apart. Zelda shuddered, and Lilith’s fingers began to finesse her center.

“I think we both know Faustus Blackwood is a poor excuse for a religious leader.” Zelda couldn’t fathom answering at a time like this, only providing a slow nod. “He cares not for his congregants, or their connection to our Dark Lord. I would know, as I have a direct line.” The humor in being so boastful while on your knees, massaging another woman’s cunt, was in fact lost on Zelda, whose ears were buzzing with pleasure.

“He needs to be replaced. And punished. So why not kill two birds with one stone? Or, one priest with one wife?”

Zelda’s mind was in disarray. Thinking about murdering Faustus while watching Lilith between her legs was causing her brain to short circuit. 

The ministrations continued. “I would help of course. We could make it into a nice, girly spa day; take a long bath in his blood. I do find exsanguination to be quite relaxing.” The motion in her fingers grew more intense, awakening deep muscles within Zelda’s flesh.

“But we’d have to wait a while. Until the coven trusts you as their leader. I can’t imagine it will be all that hard to manage: a grieving widow, remaining fierce and proud in the face of such tragedy? They’ll eat it up. And if they don’t, I’ll make them.”

Zelda let out an uncontrollable whimper when Lilith’s fingers left her clit, but moaned when she realized it was only to make room for her mouth. She couldn’t hold the gaze of those blue eyes, looking up from beneath her mound; they bore into her, making her think wild thoughts of power and pleasure.

“You’re being rather quiet up there, Zelda, all things considered. Look at me.”

The eyes were impossibly blue, and the mouth and chin were impossibly wet. 

“How does that all sound to you, dear?”

Zelda’s hips continued to roll with the truncated rhythm of her lover’s fingers and mouth, seeking them out even after they stilled.

“If you agree to the plan, I’ll let you finish.”

Her body wouldn’t allow her to hesitate. “I’ll do anything you ask! Always!” she exclaimed.

“Wonderful.” And with that, Lilith returned her mouth to Zelda’s clit and inserted two fingers, stimulating her to climax.

By the time Zelda opened her eyes again, Lilith was already upright and reapplying her lipstick. Zelda’s legs were wobbling, and if she weren’t braced at the foot of her bed, she would’ve have been in a heap on the floor. But true to Lilith’s promise, she appeared close to impeccable, give or take a bit of sweat on her brow. No one else would know about the torn undergarments she didn’t have time to change.

As she steadied herself, her mind came back to the present moment. “That was all very...enjoyable. And you have my unending gratitude, as always. But aren’t we going to talk about this?”

“What is there to discuss, dear?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the fact that you want me to murder my husband and usurp him as head of the coven on your behalf.”

Lilith smiled. “You are quite the witch, Zelda. What a marvel to retain all of that information while getting fucked.”

“That’s not the point!” Zelda’s voice began to rise in anger, only for Lilith’s blue eyes to turn cold, fierce, and put Zelda back in her place. “....Madam,” she added, which softened the other woman’s grin again.

“Perhaps we can discuss the finer details later. But for now,” moving to adjust Zelda’s veil, “we have a wedding to get to. I’ll be watching from the pews. And you’ll be up there, soaking in your shredded knickers, thinking of me, and thinking of our plan.”

Zelda’s mind continued to flutter while Lilith retreated, appraising.

“Come on, give us a smile.”

Still frightened and filled with lust, Zelda managed to muster a grin that was both sheepish and conspiratorial; she was excited at the thought of being used by this woman, this demon, as much as she was scared by it. Lilith was a glowing light she couldn’t help but walk toward.

“Good girl,” Lilith replied. “Now let’s get you to the church.”

Zelda threw her shoulders back, standing proud, ready to march into a new beginning, dreaming of wily, uncertain future.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed and that you're pumped for the premiere! we can chat about it on tumblr, where you'll find me @electric-eccentricity.


End file.
